


Star Trek: The Journey Ahead

by Curios_Gelatin



Category: Star Trek
Genre: 5 Year Exploration, Bajorans, Cardassians, El Aurian, Galaxy Class Starship, Gamma Quadrant, Gen, Humans, Kobali, Star Trek - Freeform, Trill - Freeform, Vulcans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-26 21:57:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5021980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curios_Gelatin/pseuds/Curios_Gelatin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite the presence of the stable Bajoran wormhole just ahead of Deep Space Nine for almost twelve years, the Federation hasn't even begun to chart the deeper mysteries and civilizations that lie in waiting for them almost half a galaxy away. To this end, a ship has been commissioned to undertake one of Starfleet's most dangerous exploratory missions yet. The galaxy class USS Beyond— commanded by one Captain Rhydian T'kel— journeys ahead armed with the drive to see just how many mysteries the Gamma Quadrant has to offer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Journey Ahead (Part 1/10)

The USS Beyond, docked at the ports of Deep Space Nine, was absolutely frantic. Today marked the day she would be leaving on her maiden voyage— her true maiden voyage— her first long term mission. The crew buzzed about, tending to absolutely every minor detail imaginable.  
  
Engineers crawled and stretched over and under every nook and cranny of the ship to check, double check, triple check all systems were in order. Science officers read and re-read equipment manifests and poured through the labs, medical personnel did their best to drag in impatient crew members and families for last minute body scans as ensigns flitted back and forth between them with data pads. Not a single soul was without work and even in the ship’s lounge, officers hounded each other over preparations.  
  
It was in this lounge that the Chief of Security was addressing a detachment of security officers, her usually penetrating voice somehow hardly audible above the rush of officers and civilians milling about.  
  
“Duty rosters are accessible from both the personal interfaces in your quarters and the crews designated interfaces around the ship, but not on the public interfaces. As always do not share the roster on public interfaces and— yes lieutenant?”  
  
Howell, her stone grey eyes milling over the officers under her command, paused to look at one who seemed to be finding it difficult to hold her tongue.  
  
“Sir I don’t want to interrupt.” she said hastily.  
  
“These are basic regulations Lieutenant Rosa I hardly expect this is news to any of you. If any of you have any urgent questions I’d rather address those. Do you have a question?”  
  
“No sir, I—” Rosa seemed to hesitate but an urging shoulder pat from her peers steeled her, “Actually… we do sir. Is it true the new First Officer is a Cardassian?”  
  
The question took her by surprise. Howell pursed her lips.  
  
“Are you thinking about transferring from security to command, Rosa?”  
  
“Well, no sir I—” Rosa stammered, losing her nerve at the glint of anger in her superior’s eye.  
  
“Do you have any questions relevant to the security of this vessel Lieutenant?”  
  
“...No sir.”  
  
“Do any of you?” Howell took in the face of each officer. Many were human, but some were Bajoran. Other species caught her eye but she knew the Cardassians were not popular among any race, even half a decade after the end of the Dominion War.  
  
“Sir I think as security officers we ought to know exactly whose security we’re in charge of.”  
  
She didn’t catch the face of the one who spoke above the noise but looking around at the detachment she could tell it didn’t much matter who had said it. The sentiment was shared all among them.  
  
“...Gul Damek Makar will be joining this crew to serve as First Officer to Captain T’kel.” Howell acquiesced, weighing her words carefully as she spoke them.  
  
There was a visible tenseness that immediately overtook the detachment. Howell tentatively looked over them. She clasped her hands together behind herself, then, standing straight, continued.  
  
“It’s no secret the Federation and the reformed Cardassian Union have been working to improve relations and this is just the opportunity to do so. As Gul Makar is serving here on the Beyond, so will Starfleet officers serve aboard Cardassian ships. We’ve done the same with many other races in the past.”  
  
“But sir the Cardassians are-” began one, voice high with disbelief.  
  
“I won’t hear another word on the matter.”  
  
She was met with reluctant and doubtful looks. Howell allowed her officers a few moments of dissatisfied murmurs.  
  
“As I was saying, do not share details about the duty roster on any public interfaces…”  
  
As Howell rattled off regulations, an ensign—one of the many young, red-faced and flustered dashing about the ship— burst into the area and looked around, wide-eyed and panting. In her arms she balanced various data pads bearing the insignias of various divisions.  
  
The ensign caught sight of Howell, who stood almost a head above her group of security officers. In a moment of distraction the chief had caught her eye. Normally the Commander would have paid the ensign little mind but the young officer had locked eyes with her and refused to let her look away.  
  
“Commander!”  
  
The ensign darted forward, almost dropping one of the pads in her arms as she did, and stopped short of Howell. Howell bid her own officers a dismissal and sent them off on their duties with a few quick words before the ensign took her full attention.  
  
“Commander Howell, do you know where the Captain is? I’ve been trying to contact him but— I’ve got medical reports, engineering reports— even the science officers are having some, kind of— problem—I’m sorry— if you could, just—”  
  
Howell raised her hand and the girl fell silent.  
  
“Breathe, ensign.”  
  
The ensign, still somewhat flustered, straightened her posture and attempted to reassemble the pads in her hands. She took a deep breath and pushed some strands of hair—clinging to her face with sweat— out of her eyes.  
  
Once the young ensign seemed to regain herself, Howell took one of the datapads and flicked through it. Standard updates. Issues with misplacements and late arrivals. Nothing unexpected.  
  
“Have you tried raising the Captain on his comm badge?” Howell asked, keeping her voice even.  
  
“Yes sir. No response.”  
  
Howell contemplated this for a moment before pressing her hand on her own badge.  
  
“Commander Howell to Captain T’kel.”  
  
No response.  
  
Howell pressed upon her badge again, this time with a firmer hand and voice.  
  
“Commander Howell to Captain T’kel. T’kel?”  
  
The ensign watched her nervously, her eyes darting around to the officers around her. Howell pursed her lips.  
  
“I’ll take these off your hands ensign.” the Commander prised the data pads away from the girl.  
  
“Sir?”  
  
“I’ll make sure these get to the Captain myself. And ensign-”  
  
The girl seemed to tense, eyes still wide, hands still in the same position from when her charges had been pulled away.  
  
“-take a break. You look like you’re on the verge of a breakdown.”  
  
The ensign seemed not to understand at first, frowning, but then smiled, her shoulders sagging with relief.  
  
“Yes sir.”  
  
The Commander gave her her a pursed smile before marching out of the lounge with an armful of reports and a heavy sigh.  
  
The rush of crew members moved out her way as she made her way up the decks and to the bridge. She tried the intercom to the captain's ready room and awaited a response. None came. She tried again after some seconds of waiting but again, no response.  
  
Howell frowned and adjusting the data pads into one arm pressed a hand upon her comm. badge again.  
  
“Commander Howell to Captain T’kel, respond if possible sir.”  
  
_“....espond if possible sir.”_ __  
  
She heard the faint echo of her own voice from within the room and her brow furrowed. This time she ignored the courtesy of the intercom and entered the room, striding in without hesitation to the captain’s desk. The room was empty, save for the captain’s personal belongings. An outsider may not have known what to make of Captain T’kel’s ready room- a mismatch of peculiarities and souvenirs from every planet he’d ever had shore leave on and gifts from grateful civilians. If it had not been so carefully ordered, Howell would have called the room a mess. Instead it seemed adequately clean and spacious. Her eyes glanced over to one of the walls— more like a book case really— lined with nothing but hardcovers she didn’t care to investigate at the moment. She turned her attention to the desk near the back of the room.  
  
On it, placed neatly over a datapad, was the comm. badge. She picked up the badge and then, spotting the pad beneath it, replaced the badge on the desk and picked up the pad instead.  
  
Her eyes narrowed as she read it and then widened. Sharply inhaling and exhaling she dropped the pad, letting it clatter onto the desk and marched purposefully out of the room.

 purposefully out of the room.


	2. The Journey Ahead (Part 2/10)

While preparations for the USS Beyond were going on, a Cardassian transport ship was making its way dutifully to Deep Space Nine.

 

“Estimated two hours to arrival to Empok Nor, sir.”

 

“Good, good.” responded Gul Remok from the captain’s seat. The officer who had given his estimation nodded and returned to his station. Beside the captain stood Gul Makar, stone-faced and hands locked together behind his back. The bridge of the transport ship had been quiet for most of the journey, with occasional remarks between officers and estimates of arrivals declared to the Guls. Makar had remained silent all throughout this time and had barely moved an inch from where he stood since boarding.

 

Remok looked over at the man and crossed a leg over the other. The captain seemed to be waiting for something from Makar. When Makar only stood there—watching the viewscreen with the same burning eyes he’d managed to keep going for most of the ride here and even before coming aboard— Remok decided to prod him.

 

“You seem positively glum Makar.”

 

Makar glanced down at Remok, and then back at the viewscreen. His jaw was clenched. His silence only seemed to amuse Remok, who chuckled softly under his breath before addressing him again.

 

“Could it be you’re not looking forward to your new command?”

 

Makar, once again, did not respond, but Remok noticed him clench his hands a little tighter.

 

“Ah wait, my mistake. It’s not your command at all but rather,  Starfleet’s  command-”

 

“Does this amuse you Remok?” Gul Makar snapped, losing the little patience he had maintained throughout the journey so far.

 

“It most certainly does!” Remok responded brightly, unfazed—in fact quite pleased— by the other’s impatience with him.

 

“Oh pray tell, why is that?” Makar muttered, turning his head away in irritation. By chance he caught an officer apparently watching their conversation. His lips curled back into a snarl and the officer nervously looked down at his console, evidently pretending he had heard nothing.

 

“Well let’s review facts shall we—”

 

“Remok.” Makar interrupted, his hands gripping along the arms of the captain's seat, voice stiff, loud and regretting his choice of words. He was now very much aware the bridge officers, like most of his people, were eager for gossip.

Not that Remok particularly cared about his fellow Gul’s pride.

 

“—first, you are  ‘transferred’  from one warship to the next—”

 

“Remok—”

 

“— then  you are ‘transferred’   from warship to cruiser vessel—”

 

“You are oversimplifying—”

 

“— then  from cruiser vessel to patrol vessel—”

 

“That is not how—”

 

“— and now  they are just entirely skipping any Cardassian vessels at all and shipping you off to Starfleet.”

 

The two Guls regarded each other, Makar with fierce anger, lips pursed into a thin line and Remok cool and calm, a smile curving up on the edge of his lip.

 

“To serve as a first officer, no less,” Remok added after a moment, as if he’d just remembered, “essentially stripping you of the rank of Gul. You cannot tell me any of this is not even mildly humourous.”

 

There was a stony silence as the two watched each other. Eventually, Makar relented and his hands loosened and slipped off the captain’s chair. He resumed proper posture and clasped his hands behind himself, facing forward once again.

 

“This is ridiculous.” Makar muttered under his breath.

 

“That’s what makes it funny.”

 

“That’s what make it infuriating,” Makar retorted, then added in a mutter, “and humiliating.”

 

There was a silence wherein Remok’s smile slid away and he began to look sober, the mischievous glint in his eyes dulling away. He lowered his voice to a low mutter now, so he was certain only Makar could hear him. 

 

“What are you going to do Damek, start a coup? We should be thankful there’s even a ruling order to be angry  with .” 

 

Makar looked down at Remok. It seemed the captain was no longer in the mood for games, instead regarding the view screen with a vague disinterest and a mulling look. He did not respond and let the hum of engines and machinery dominate the room, both Guls merely watching the progress of the transport ship as it sailed through the stars.

 

“...Hail the Beyond.” Makar ordered.

 

“Yes sir. Hailing, sir.” came the rapt response of a bridge officer.

 

Remok looked up inquisitively at Makar who responded with a vague head tilt.

 

“I should know who I’m dealing with.”

 

This answer seemed to satisfy the captain and he sat up straighter in his chair, eyes on the view screen.

 

“No response, sir.”

 

Both Gul’s frowned at the communications officer, then shared a doubtful look with one another.

 

“Hail them again.” Remok ordered, and looked once again at the view screen.

 

There was another pause.

 

“No response again sir, I am uncertain as to why… wait, it appears they  are  responding now, sir.”

 

“On screen.”

 

The bridge was immediately full of the sounds of officers barking orders and crew members submitting reports and weaving between each other. Dominating most of the view screen however was a young woman with a severe expression, one hand holding a data pad and the other typing impatiently onto a station on the bridge. The spotted markings along her face and racing down her neck identified her as a Trill. She hardly gave the view screen a passing glance.

 

“Yes,  yes, this is the USS Beyond, who is this and what do you need?”

 

The woman glanced once again at the her view screen and seemed to realize something. She left her station, leaving the view screen blank save for the officers milling about in a rush behind her.

 

There was a flicker and the screen cut away from the personal station and over to cover the main bridge.

 

“Cardassians. I take it one of you’s the ship's new first officer? What do you need? Is there a probl—  hey you!”

 

She grabbed someone off-screen. The Guls looked at each other, wide-eyed at the scene before them. They could vaguely hear her growling orders to a person with a much meeker tone.

 

“Take this to engineering and tell them we need Ajano up on the bridge— Look  I don’t care if you’re ‘supposed to go down to medical’  whatever it is, it can wait. Get Ajano.  Now.”

 

The woman— whose uniform identified her a science officer— looked back at the screen, shaking her head in apparent disbelief.

 

“It’s impossible to get anyone to do anything around here. Look if it’s not urgent I—” she began, raising her hands.

 

“To whom are we speaking?” Makar interrupted.

 

The woman blinked, frowned and then sighed drearily. She rubbed the bridge of her nose for a few moments before folding her arms.

 

“Commander Leda Nix, chief of science, and this really is not—”

 

“You speak to Gul Remok and Gul Makar. Where is your captain?”

 

“That’s something all of us would like to know.” Commander Nix gave them a big, exasperated smile and threw her hands up as she motioned to the chaos behind her.

 

“He must be somewhere on the ship. Hail him. We demand to speak to him.” 

 

“He’s not responding to hails, sir.”

 

“Then go find him.  Now.”

 

The Commander seemed taken aback by their tone and gave them a dismissive smile. Her words were slow and deliberate.

 

“With all due respect,  sir? I don’t have time for this.”

 

The view screen blacked out. On the Cardassian ship, the entire bridge looked on silently. No one could quite believe their eyes. 


	3. The Journey Ahead (Part 3/10)

On the bridge of the Beyond, Nix rubbed her temples. At the sound signifying a hail coming through again she cursed aloud and marched over to a communications panel.  
  
"Damned Cardassians..." she grumbled under her breath, "where's the damn mute— Ah~hah there you are..."  
  
She bowed her head in relief as the pips cut out.   
  
“Commander Nix.” came a panting voice from behind. She cursed under her breath and swerved around.   
  
“ _What,_ what is it now?”   
  
Three science officers stood before her, all sweating profusely— one even trembling—although it was difficult to tell whether this was because they were exhausted or nervous about confronting their superior.  
  
“It’s about the research equipment, sir, we—” began one of them, a young man who had a distinct pallor accentuated with heavily bagged eyes.  
  
“Yes, yes have you finished assembling it yet?”  
  
The three officers followed their superior anxiously she she darted here and there on the bridge, checking data pad after data pad. They gave each other fearful looks before once again addressing her.  
  
“No, sir, we… we can’t unload it ourselves it—”  
  
“ _You haven’t even unloaded it yet?”_  
  
Nix stopped moving around the bridge to look at the officers.  
  
The pale one gulped and his mouth gaped open nervously several times. The others seemed too nervous to speak, their jaws clenched tightly shut.  
  
“ _Well_?”  
  
They started at her sharp tone.  
  
“Sir we just can’t physically—” the sickly looking one started, finally able to force his words out.  
  
“If we could just get a detachment of security officers to help us get it to a transporter—” another insisted.  
  
The Commander laughed loudly.  
  
"And let those brutes damage my equipment again? I don’t think so. One day you kids will learn you have to do things yourself if you want them done right. No, no, no. Get back down to the cargo bay I want my lab up and running before the day’s end.”  
  
“Un… understood, sir, we’ll…”   
  
The ill looking young man’s eyes rolled back into his head as he sank down onto the floor with a thud. There was a cry from the two that had accompanied him but the rest of the crew around the bridge seemed not to notice, and Nix seemed more annoyed than concerned. The two officers looked up at her, too shocked to respond.  
  
“Well don’t just stand there. Pick him up and get him out of the way!”    
  
  
“Un… understood, sir, we’ll…”   
  
  
The ill looking young man’s eyes rolled back into his head as he sank down onto the floor with a thud. There was a cry from the two that had accompanied him but the rest of the crew around the bridge seemed not to notice, and Nix seemed more annoyed than concerned. The two officers looked up at her, too shocked to respond.  
  
  
“Well don’t just stand there. Pick him up and get him out of the way!”


	4. The Journey Ahead (Part 4/10)

 

Down at the medical bay Dr. Stollan was dragging a Benzite security officer between throngs of medical staff who stood scanning impatient crew members and their families as they typed out notes on nearby interfaces.

 

"Doctor please, I simply don't have time for a medical check at the moment. Perhaps in an hour or..."

 

"This will take all of twenty seconds, lieutenant," Stollan stated, sitting the Benzite down on an empty bed near the back of the room, "Trust that I don't want to keep you here any more than you want to stay."

 

The doctor took a medical tricorder from the nearby counter. The Benzite gave a resigned sigh. Beyond the crowd, chief Howell wove into the room, alongside her two science officers with their arms interlinked, carrying a sickly look friend between them. Howell raised an eyebrow at them before diving into the busy-ness of the med bay.

 

"Your last scan report indicates you had some issues with your Nitro-Oxi implant that resulted in some lung inflammation..."

 

Stollan frowned as he read this off the scan. There was a short  beep as he reset the tricorder and began a new scan, carefully pointing at specific areas on the Benzite's face, neck and chest. He promptly replaced the tricorder on the desk and began to rummage through a cabinet above it.

 

"I believe that was treated for at my last post doctor, I assure you—Commander Howell!" The officer was surprised at the appearance of the Security chief, who seemed to be looking around the room at the faces of each person in earnest.

 

"Lieutenant." Howell offered in greeting, giving him a quick glance.

 

The officer made to stand up but Stollan— noticing this— resolutely placed two hands firmly on the officer's shoulders and sat him back down. Then from the cabinet he brought a hook-like instrument to the officer's face. The benzite froze and gave the instrument a fearful look. 

 

“Doctor I don’t know if I’m comfortable with—  oh” 

 

Leaning in close to the Benzite, Stollan placed the hook like instrument up the officer's nasal cavity before he could resist any further.

 

"It seems you have some minor scarring from the treatment. When I countdown to one breathe in deeply. Three, two…”

 

Howell watched the doctor’s procedure with vague interest, but was far more interested in Stollan himself, a Vulcan whom she did not recognize. Stollan— apparently noticing her interest— looked up at her.

 

“Is there something you need, Commander?"

 

Howell gave the Benzite officer- who seemed quite frozen with fear with the hook still deep in his nasal cavity- an uncertain look, but Stollan’s attention seemed to have completely waned over to her.

“I’m looking for Doctor Vela, I need an updated general medical report.” Howell responded promptly.

 

“I see. I believe I sent an ensign off with an updated report some time ago.” Stollan replied, returning their attention to the cringing officer on the bed.

 

Howell’s brow furrowed at Doctor Stollan. 

 

“Doctor I think you’ve misunderstood, I need a report from the chief medical officer.”

 

Stollan’s attention was once again taken away from the Benzite, who was beginning to look cross-eyed at the instrument being held up by the doctor.

 

“I am the chief medical officer. It seems Doctor Vela had to attend to an emergency family situation back on Earth. I am her replacement.”

 

Howell’s frown deepened, “I wasn’t told about this.” 

 

“I’m certain hardly anyone has had time to notice— ah, yes,  one. ”

 

The Benzite started at the sharp spray of the instrument and breathed in hastily a half second too late. As the doctor pulled it back out the officer doubled over and coughed harshly.

 

“I’m chief of security doctor, it’s my job to know.”

 

Stollan didn’t seem to hear her, instead giving the Benzite a pat on the back.

 

“Take slow, deep breaths.”

 

After a few moments the Benzite sat back up looking rather dazed. Stollan took one of medical pads in Howell’s arms.

 

“I’ll link this up to the real time system so you can receive updates as they come.”

 

“Thank you doctor.” Howell responded with heavy gratitude. After a few moments and checking alongside the med bay’s mainframe Stollan handed her back the data pad. As Howell turned to leave however, they called out, and Howell reluctantly turned to face the doctor again.

 

“Commander, I would ask if we’d had any communication with the Cardassians?”

 

This gave Howell pause and she attempted to recall if they had. As far as she knew there had been no communication with the Cardassians yet.

 

“I don’t believe so, doctor, but I’m sure they can’t be more than a few hours away from arriving. You can talk to them then.”

 

“You see, I was told we would have received the first officer’s medical files and information on cardassian biology by now, but there are no such files in the med bay data-banks.” 

 

“I wouldn’t know anything about that, doctor. You’ll have to talk to communications on the bridge about that, maybe they can set up a comm line with the Cardassian ship.”

  
He opened his mouth to speak but before they could recall her again Howell swept purposefully back into the crowd.


	5. The Journey Ahead (Part 5/10)

The promenade of Deep Space Nine was calmer— albeit not by far— than the ships decks. There was certainly a different mood in the air- jovial, relaxed. People milled about at their own pace, laughing, sharing conversation and shopping. At the center of the promenade was Quark’s, a bar and gambling establishment infamous and vastly popular with both the locals and visitors alike. 

 

Inside, patrons staked their bets at dabo tables with rambunctious shouts and gulped down synthehol by the keg, much to the thrill of the Ferengi running the bar. On a second floor table sat Rhydian T’kel, crowded by a sizeable variety of people all quietly watching him with open mouths and wide eyes.

 

“...and then it was quiet. Me and my best security officer—crouched on this hill behind the gutted belly of this great, stinking, rotting carcass of a  beast  larger than a transport vessel— holding our breath for so long that it felt like we would die right then and there.”

 

They hung on his words as he spoke and leaned dramatically towards them, his voice lowering to almost a whisper. Below them on the first floor, security chief Howell strode into the bar. She looked around herself, her lips tightened into a thin line as she looked up to the second floor.

 

“One sound, one tiny breath and we knew the Galnaian’s would smell our alien breath exhaling in the air of their dank marsh and smash us to pieces with these ancient, ceremonial war hammers they carried slung across their backs. But what they didn’t know, what they didn’t  expect —”

 

“Captain T’kel.”

 

T’kel started and looked behind himself. There Howell stood, the same thin-lipped expression and an arm mounted with data pads. She looked down at T’kel expectantly. Behind him the crowd seemed to scorn her interruption.

 

“Commander Howell! Incredible timing, as always. I was just telling them about that mission in Galnaia, you remember that, yes?”

 

“Captain there are urgent matters that require your—  oh for… ” 

 

The captain had stood up and promptly rounded on her, swinging an arm around her shoulder—as best he could given her height— as he presented her to the onlooking crowd.

 

“My  best  security officer, Commander Luna Howell!” T’kel exclaimed loudly, mouth twisted into a playful grin, “go on and tell them how you got us out of that cesspool, Commander.”

 

Howell gave the onlookers—and T’kel— a reluctant look.

 

“Go on!” T’kel insisted. 

 

“The Galnaian’s have an excellent sense of smell, but their other senses, I noticed, were fairly weak. I heaved the carcass of the beast we had hidden in down the hill and the momentum caught the Galnaian’s by surprise.”

 

“ Without taking a single breath she lifts this huge corpse and  slings it  down the hill!  It was incredible! And with the Galnaian’s down we then had to traverse this maze of a marsh which—”

 

“ Rhys.”

Howell interrupted sharply. For a moment, T’kel looked as if he were about to continue on anyway but instead his lips curved up into a relenting smile.

 

“I’m sorry friends, it seems my shore leave is over. Thank you for the drinks.”

 

With some grumbling the crowd slowly dispersed, some even shaking the Captain’s hand or offering a pat on the back. He sat down at the now lonely table and motioned an empty seat to Howell.

 

She placed the data pads in front of the captain and sat down opposite him. A Ferengi waiter nearby, noticing the empty drinks on the table, attempted to come to their table but a scornful look from Howell bade him away quickly enough.

 

“These are the updates on progress so far. As you can see things are going about as well as they ever do during a pre-exploratory all-systems check.”

 

T’kel didn’t offer a word, instead vaguely nodding in agreement as he read through the engineering report, leaning his head on one hand on the table as he did.

 

“From what I’ve read myself medical is doing just about all it can to round up as many crew members as possible but it doesn’t seem they’ve been in-keeping with their previously appointed times. You should also know Doctor Vela is on a return trip to earth due to some—”

 

“Family emergency yes I know. I specifically requested Doctor Stollan to replace her as Chief Medical Officer, have they arrived yet?”

 

“Yes sir, I spoke with him some time ago in the medical bay, he’s concerned the files on Cardassian biology haven’t been transferred to the med bay’s data banks yet.”

 

At this T’kel frowned.

 

“That is odd. Though I suppose knowing the Cardassians they’ve never been particularly willing to hand us any valuable information on their species…”

 

There was some silence as T’kel read through the report. Howell leaned back in her seat. After a time she decided to voice what had been on her mind most of the day and, speaking in a low voice she carefully said;

 

“Rhys I’m not sure the crew will respond well to having a cardassian as a first officer.”

 

T’kel looked into her eyes, noting her unease, and then looked back at the report.

 

“A little bit of a pessimistic view, Luna. It doesn’t suit you.”

 

Howell raised an eyebrow.

 

“Have you been around any of the crew today? It’s just about the only thing they can talk about—”

 

“Commander.” T’kel sighed, raising a hand to silence her.

 

Howell pursed her lips but acquiesced and did not persist. She stood up and made to walk away.

 

“Then by your leave captain I have other duties—”

 

“Oh come now Luna, don’t make me drink alone.” the Captain laughed from over his shoulder.

 

“We should  both  return to the Beyond.  Captain. ” she added the word ‘captain’ in a deliberate tone.

 

“And we will. After one last round.”

 

Howell did not bother to hide her skepticism. She folded her arms and regarded the captain, eyebrow raised.

He raised a finger.

 

“Come on chief. One drink and then back to work. The ship won't leave without me.”

  
Before she could refuse again he had already waved over one of the Ferengi waiters and ordered their drinks.


	6. The Journey Ahead (Part 6/10)

 

The Cardassian transport had stopped at a docking port on Empok Nor. Aboard the ship there were barked orders as crewmen filed in and various portions of machinery appeared about the cargo bay in neat formations.

 

“It would have been so much neater to strip the station down before it was evacuated.” Remok sighed as he looked on.

 

“There was no need to disassemble it.” Makar responded from next to him.

 

“Perhaps not at the time, but once it was clear we weren’t returning to it, it seems only rational to have sent  someone  to collect it, instead of leaving it to the scavengers.”

 

“I assume the military didn’t think they would ever be this desperate for materials.” Makar stated as he turned around and left the cargo bay. Remok followed suit.

 

“How long will this distraction take?”

 

“No more than an hour. Eager are we?”

 

“That ship’s a disaster.”

 

“Well, yes, but... Makar wait.”

 

Remok grabbed him by the arm and forced him to a stop. Makar gave an impatient sigh and faced him.

 

“Let me speak to the council, I can convince them to—”

 

“ No,  Remok. It is humiliating enough to have been assigned this task at all, I will not run back to the council and beg for a different command.”

 

Remok’s jaw clenched. His voice became low.

 

“Your pride is blinding you.”

 

Makar gave his fellow Gul a hard look.

 

“And your sentiment is blinding you. I will not disobey orders simply because I do not like them. That is not how we do things.”

 

“My  sentiment? ” Remok hissed, his grip on Makar’s arm tightening, “How many of our friends have been retired or transferred away from Cardassia prime? With every man we lose we are diminished in power, and that is no perception based on  sentiment . Swallow your pride. You’ll earn it back a hundredfold.  Let me talk to the council on your behalf. ”

 

Makar seemed hesitant, but only for an instant. He wrenched away his arm.

 

“Tell your men to be done before the hours end. I have much to do aboard the Beyond, I will not tolerate further delays.”

 

As he walked away Remok gave a quiet sigh in defeat.

  
  
  


The Cardassian crewmen worked with no idle chatter, gathering as much they could of the old station within that hour and returned to their posts after they completed their surveys and updated the ships manifesto. Remok and Makar returned to their place on the bridge and gave the order to continue on. Although they tried —many times— to hail the Beyond, much to their annoyance they received no response.

 

The journey to Deep Space Nine was a quiet one, and without incident.

 

Upon reaching the station, the ship hummed through docking procedures. In the transporter room, the Guls were offering each other a short farewell.

 

“I suppose there’s nothing I can say to convince you not to go then.”

 

“I’ve made up my mind, Remok.”

 

Remok raised a brow at Makar.

 

“You are always  so  stubborn,” Remok said rather sullenly. He looked to the officer standing by to operate the transporter, “Have you made contact with the Beyond’s transporter staff?”

 

“Yes sir, though I’ve been told their schedule is rather hectic at the moment. They can only hold off for us for the next few minutes.”

 

“Then I’ll not keep them waiting.” Makar responded.

 

“Yes sir.”

 

The Guls regarded each other once more.

 

“Then… Good luck.” Remok offered Makar a polite nod.

 

“I’ll need more than luck.” Makar responded with a grimace as the transporter locked onto him. Remok watched him energize. When he was completely gone, he looked to the officer. The officer nodded back, and the Gul left the transporter room.

 

The moment Makar arrive, he could see the utter disarray.Without so much as a welcome he was bade out of the transporter room by agitated crewmen and thrown into the rivers of officers rushing back and forth through the decks.

 

Squaring his shoulders and clenching his jaw Makar strode through the ship and into a turbolift, where he marked the bridge as his destination. 

There were other crewmen in the turbolift, many of who peeked at him with alarm, and went quiet when he entered. He kept his eyes resolutely on the screen monitoring the ascent through the ship.

 

Once at the bridge, he looked around. No sign of a commanding officer. He headed to the Captain’s ready room and pressed the intercom. No answer. He squinted and pressed it again. No answer.

 

Hesitant, he took a few steps into the room and looked around. Aside froma strange clutter of odd objects and archaic text, there appeared to be no one here. He pressed his hand to the bridge of his nose and sighed. He took a moment before striding back out of the room and back into the bridge.

 

He looked around at the steady hum of working engineers and, catching the eyes of one officer standing just atop a counter next to one of the interfaces before he hurriedly averted his eyes and stuck his head up a removed panel.

 

“Where is the Captain?” Makar demanded, marching to the crewman, his upper body hidden above a panel he had removed as he worked. There were sounds of clattering and scraping as the ensign loudly responded. Around them on the bridge officers worked with heavy focus— although occasionally their eyes were drawn to the cardassian standing among them.

 

“Uh… I’m busy at the moment, if you could just find someone else to—”

 

“Everyone is ‘busy’, everyone has ‘things to do’ but I will have someone take me to the captain or—”

 

“None of us know where the captain is…  sir.  He hasn’t responded to hails since before noon.” 

 

“Are you telling me the captain has been missing for over six hours and no one has bothered to try find him?”

 

There was another clatter and the ensign stooped his head down to look Makar in the eyes.

 

“I think Commander Howell went to look for him,” he offered non-committally.

 

“And where did Commander Howell say they were going?”

 

“She didn’t. If you don’t mind sir I’ve got an appointment with the med bay”

Before Makar had time to protest the ensign had whisked over to the turbolift. Squaring his shoulders, he marched to the center of the raised level and boomed;

 

“Whoever is doing  non-essential  work report to me.  Now. ”

 

There was hesitance in the room. Makar met the eyes of the officers who had stopped their work to pay attention, but each quickly averted their eyes. His jaw clenched and his eyes flared. Just as he opened his mouth to launch into a tirade someone replaced a panel with deliberate loudness. A single officer, an aged bajoran woman wearing operations gold, came to the center of the bridge to face Makar. She dusted her hands and readjusted her uniform.

 

“Lieutenant Commander Ena Ajano, sir, chief of engineering. I’ll assist you in finding the Captain.”

 

Makar regarded her with a raised eyebrow. Of all the crewmen he had not expected for any Bajoran officers to respond to his command at all, but there she stood. He nodded at her.

 

“ Thank you , Lieutenant Commander.”


	7. The Journey Ahead (Part 7/10)

Together they walked down through the decks, and throughout the ship Makar could feel the disquieted, fleeting gazes of the crewmen. He looked over at his escort, the aged Bajoran woman. She seemed to almost swagger as she walked— a powerful stride that should have seemed quite out of place with her age but instead made her seem all the more authoritative. Her face was hard around the edges but her eyes were quite mellow. Her hair, a dirty grey white, neatly cropped her face.

“Computer, locate Commander Howell.” Ajano asked, tapping the comm badge on her chest.

 

“Commander Howell is not on board.” The computer’s cool voice responded.

 

“Expand search to DS9.”

 

“Linking up with DS9 mainframe. Please hold.” There was a short pause, “Commander Luna Howell’s last known location is the DS9 promenade.”

 

Ajano gave Makar a smile.

 

“Now we’re getting somewhere.”

 

They walked past the docks and into the upper pylon port itself.

 

“I must thank you again Commander. It has been difficult to find any helpful soul today.”

“Sir?”

 

“When we attempted to contact the ship earlier some science officer cut off communications and refused to respond to our hails thereafter.”

 

Ajano seemed to find this amusing. She chuckled to herself as they entered the turbolift.

“Take us to the promenade. That would be Commander Nix. She’s not usually allowed near the communications panels.”

 

“I’ll see her reprimanded for it,” Makar swore. He paused and looked at the Lt. Commander again. 

 

“I’m… surprised a Bajoran would offer me aid in my search, Commander. Ah,  pleasantly

surprised, of course.”

 

“Why’s that sir?”

 

He gave her a puzzled look.

 

“Well I thought it was obvious that given Cardassia and Bajor’s… complicated history, your people would be quite adamantly against my authority. Or so I had pre-supposed.”

 

“The Bajorans serving aboard this ship have chosen to dedicate their lives to Starfleet, Gul Makar. If our superiors say you’re in charge, you’re in charge.”

 

“So you say, but things are rarely so simple.”

 

The turbolift stopped and opened up to the bustling promenade. They stepped in and gave the area a passing glance. There was no sign of the captain or the security chief as of yet. Ajano led the way.

 

“Why would the captain and head of security be on the promenade?” Makar wondered, more to himself than his company.

 

“Maybe the captain is meeting with the local operations division.” Ajano suggested.

“On the promenade? A rather informal meeting.”

 

“It was just a suggestion sir.”

 

Silence fell between them but did not last for long. As they passed the entrance to the bar, Ajano stopped. Laughter could be heard from within, and she seemed to recognize it.

 

“Is something wrong, Lieutenant Commander?”

 

“No sir. The captain and security chief are in the bar.”

 

“ The bar?”

 

“Yes sir. The bar.” Once again Ajano was smiling mischievously as she waltzed into the bar and up to the second level to speak with T’kel and Howell. Makar, staring incredulously after her, didn’t budge until T’kel himself looked down and waved him over. Squaring his jaw the cardassian marched into the bar and up the stairs.

 

“I’ll have to be getting back to engineering now, Captain.” said Ajano, giving the captain a courteous smile.

 

“Understood chief, take your leave.” T’kel responded and took another sip of his drink. The chief engineer disappeared down into the throng of customers.

 

“You are Captain T’kel?” Makar began, expression almost livid. The captain seemed quite lax- drink in hand and all. Several drinks it appeared by the looks of the various empty glasses on the table- upon which also lay several forgotten data pads. Opposite him, Howell seemed a little more sober- in every sense of the word— but still quite relaxed, leaning back in her seat as Makar addressed them.

 

“I am. You must be Gul Makar,” the captain responded brightly. He then motioned to Howell and sat up, quite suddenly excited, saying “and this is my chief of security, Commander Luna Howell. Come, sit with us Gul, let me tell you about the time we were stranded on the planet Galnaia—”

 

“The ship is in utter disarray Captain, I strongly advise you return  immediately.”

 

T’kel seemed surprised at being cut short. 

 

“The ship is undergoing a full systems check Gul, if everything were going smoothly I’d be worried the crew aren’t doing their jobs.”

 

“Yes it appears the entire crew is quite busy, even you appear to be doing… what is it you’re doing, exactly?”

 

“Isn’t it obvious?” The captain grinned.

 

Makar was not amused- his expression flat and his voice cold and stony.

 

“It appears that you are drinking. Gratuitously. While on duty.”

 

“With my security chief,” T’kel added, as if correcting him.

 

“My beverages are non-alcoholic.” Howell noted.

 

“Alright then my security chief is standing by while  I  drink gratuitously. Happy?” 

 

Howell’s lips twitched into a smile for a moment.

 

Makar, whose semblance of patience seem to have finally worn through, took the data pads off the table and glowered down at the two at the table with a burning glint in his eyes.

 

“I have known your crew for less than two hours and already your ship is by far the most ridiculous display of ineptitude and insubordination I have ever seen. When you are done drinking away your duties and tire of idle conversation you will find me on the bridge of the Beyond. Where  you  should be.”

 

And with that the Cardassian marched out of the bar, data pads under his arm and a shock of patrons staring after him. T’kel and Howell shared blank expressions.

 

“I think I’m going to like him.” T’kel laughed loudly and took another swig of his drink.

 

“You always say that.” Howell snorted. T’kel spluttered as he unintentionally drank and laughed at the same time, causing him to choke out his laughs as he coughed and Howell— apparently pleased, chuckled under her breath.


	8. The Journey Ahead (Part 8/10)

“Chief how can you stand for this?”

 

Ajano sighed a long, tired sigh. Below her a group of her own kind, a group of Bajorans, awaited her response. She peered down through the open panel at them as she worked. Their faces were meant to seem livid with fury but to Ajano, they looked more akin to the anger of a child’s tantrum than to true indignation. 

 

“Hand me that Tri-corder, would ya’?” She asked, holding out her hand. There was a pause before one of the group went around to the counter and handed it to her.

 

“Aren’t you angry, Ajano?” the one who had handed her the Tri-corder— a young man whom she recognized to be Lieutenant Enda Bekor— whispered to her, “A Cardassian as first officer. The Cardassians aren’t even a part of the Federation.”

 

“No I am not angry, Enda. Starfleet does officer transfers with all kinds of aliens all the time.” 

 

She tried to make it quite obvious that she was disinterested in the subject by sticking her head back up into the machinery but they were quite stuck on it.

 

“It feels like they’re trying to provoke us.” Bekor insisted, “They must have known there were Bajoran officers serving aboard the Beyond so they sent their officer here as a message.”

 

“We’ll never be rid of them.” Another Bajoran agreed wholeheartedly. There were murmurs of agreement between the group. Ajano, giving the machinery around the area one last scan, was apparently satisfied and knelt down.

 

“Is that so. Hand me that panel, would you kid?” 

 

The lieutenant started and handed her the section of wall panelling. She murmured a thank you as she carefully replaced it back to its proper place.

 

“Commander I don’t think you’re taking this very seriously.” said another, her voice quite high.

 

“That’s because there’s nothing  to  take seriously, ensign.” Ajano said pointedly as she hopped off the ladder. The group of young Bajorans followed her as she stowed her tricorder away and made down the hall of the engineering section.

 

“You can’t tell me something doesn’t seem off about this whole transfer.” Bekor said incredulously. Beside him there was a chorus of agreement.

 

“Commander you were part of the rebellion against the Cardassians so much longer than any of us. You know what they’re like, how they think—”

 

“What I know,” Ajano said quietly as she rounded on all of them, a hand raised to quiet them, “is that the occupation of Bajor ended almost twelve years ago. The Dominion war, six years ago. Bajor and Cardassia  and the Federation are still recovering from both. No one wants to start a fight.”

 

The group eyed her reluctantly, knowing there was reason in her words. She hated to preach, but she knew she had their respect. She pursed her lips and begrudgingly began.

 

“We are Bajorans, but we are not  just  that. We are Bajorans of Starfleet, and Starfleet means working together  despite  past conflict. And it’s is hard and takes a long time to get used to, and sometimes it feels like you’re doing the wrong thing but you’re not. You’re helping to make a better future, and that’s what matters.”

 

The group of Bajorans seemed to sulk now as reluctant mumbles of agreement gave way among them.

 

Ajano gave Bekor a gentle side hug and charming smile.

 

“And besides. There’s one of him, and a ship full of us. If he tries anything we have him outnumbered.”

  
At that she cheerfully strode away, leaving the group of young bajorans to stare after her strangely. 


	9. The Journey Ahead (Part 9/10)

Having by now returned to the Beyond, Makar made way to his quarters with the data pads in his hands, fuming. The bridge could wait. He needed some time to himself to calm down and analyze where to go on from this point. Coming to a halt in front of his own door he tapped a foot impatiently and rapped his fingers on the datapads as the scanner attempted to identify him. The panel at the center of the door flashed from amber to red.  
  
“Records not found. Unauthorized attempt to access by / UNIDENTIFIED / CARDASSIAN / MALE / has been logged into the security mainframe.”  
  
Makar clicked his tongue loudly and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He stood there for a few moments, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly.  
  
“Computer to whom are these quarters assigned to.”  
  
“These are the quarters of Gul Damek Makar of the reformed Cardassian Union, First Officer of the USS Beyond.” the even voice of the computer responded.  
  
“Access Gul Damek Makar’s identification profile and calibrate with the facial and optical recognition software.”  
  
For a few moments the lights flashed amber again. Then red. Makar exhaled sharply and spun around in anger.  
  
“Unable to comply. Gul Damek Makar’s personal files have not been logged.”  
  
Makar’s brow furrowed deeply, “Not been logged? But…”  
  
He looked around himself at the residential hall and spotted an interface nearby. He strode up to it— pulling out a data chip from his pocket as he did— and began accessing the terminal.  
  
“Computer, entering data chip containing Gul Damek Makar’s personnel file. Please access and log through appropriate channels. Decryption sequence being entered using crew interface terminal number… two hundred and forty-six.”  
  
“Processing. Please wait. Data entry approved.”  
  
Makar removed the data chip and walked back to his door. The recognition hardware’s interface flashed amber, then green. Makar gave a relieved sigh as the door parted and slid open. He looked around his designated quarters. Standard. Bare. He had only brought a few belongings with him, none of which had been transported up to his quarters yet. Understandable with the mess the ship was at the moment.  
  
He looked around as he went over to his bedroom and pushed down on the mattress. Comfortable. Everything looked comfortable and soft, at least compared to what he was used to. Cardassian ships didn’t put very much thought into the comfort of its crew but rather the efficiency and use of space, meaning crew quarters were often cramped and shared between more than one officer. As he looked around his quarters he wondered vaguely how such a vast amount of space may have been used otherwise on one of his own people’s ships.  
  
“Computer are the environmental controls of this room isolated?”  
  
“All personal quarters are allowed independent environmental factors subject to the occupants wishes.”  
  
Pleased, Makar continued, “I see. Computer increase temperature to thirty-two degrees, and increase humidity by five percent— and dim the lights please. Dimmer. Dimmer. That’s enough.”  
  
Makar hummed with satisfaction at the room, now pleasantly warm to him and certainly not as harshly-lit as the rest of the ship.  
  
“It’s nice to see _someone_ can take orders around here.”  
  
He went over to a armchair and fell back into it. Then, resting the data pads in his lap, took one and began reading through the updated reports. He had almost five minutes of peace before he heard the intercom to his room sound. Makar’s stomach dropped and he looked to the door hesitantly.   
  
Reluctantly he called out, “Enter.”  
  
The door opened to a man with a jovial expression, dressed in rather strange looking robes and holding up a bottle and two glasses. Makar raised an eyebrow as the man came through the door— data pad still raised in his hand— and placed the bottle on the coffee table just in front of him.  
  
“A housewarming gift,” he assured Makar, voice warm and friendly. Clasping his hands together gently the man looked around at the Cardassian’s quarters.  
  
“I see you’ve already taken advantage of the environmental controls. Tell me, are they to your liking?”  
  
“Who are you?”  
  
The man peered down at Makar, eyebrows raised attentively. He seemed to realize something as he smiled and gave him a courteous head nod.  
  
“Of course. We haven’t met yet. I am Attiel, the ship’s counsellor. I came down to welcome you, seeing how the senior staff are… quite tied up at the moment. I brought kanar.”  
  
At this, Attiel sat down on the couch next to Makar and reached for the bottle. The data pad was still stubbornly raised in front of himself as he watched the counsellor.  
  
“I’m on duty counsellor.”  
  
Attiel didn’t seem bothered by this and uncorked the bottle, swiftly pouring the muddy looking drink into the two glasses he had brought with him.  
  
“You know, I have never met a Cardassian who refused an offering of kanar…”  
  
Makar watched him pour, the datapad in his hand lowering a few inches.  
  
“...And I think the way things have gone today, you could really use a drink.”  
  
He couldn’t argue that. The counsellor raised both glasses in his hands and offered one to Makar who— finally putting the datapad down in his lap— took it with some trepidation.  
  
“It has been a… challenging… day.”  
  
“Tell me about it.” Attiel gestured with a hand for Makar to continue. Instead the Cardassian gave the counsellor an apprehensive look.  
  
“Counsellor I am not in the mood for a session about—”  
  
“This is not a session,” the counsellor interrupted with a small tip of his drink, with voice cool, “we’re just two acquaintances sharing a bottle of kanar. Nothing more. You can talk about your day or we can talk about something else. Have you met the captain yet?”  
  
A dark look glazed over Makar at the mention of the captain. He drank and took up a datapad again in his free hand.  
  
“I’ll suppose you have then. You... didn’t like him.”  
  
“This ship should be ready to leave in a few hours time but the captain is more than happy wasting away his time drinking with his security chief.”   
  
“You don’t approve.”  
  
“Of course I don’t approve! He should be the one overseeing these.” Makar flashed, smacking the datapad down onto the coffee table. His sudden anger didn’t seem to faze the counsellor, who watched Makar calmly.  
  
“I take it Cardassian ships are not so chaotic as this.”  
  
“No military vessel I’ve ever _served on_ has been so chaotic- not to even begin to mention the lack of discipline among the crew…”  
  
“You feel the crew lacks discipline?”  
  
“I’ve hardly been able to find even a single crewman who will listen to a thing I say.”  
  
The semblance of peace Makar may have found alone in his quarters was now well gone. Clearly full of irritation now he took a longer swallow of kanar and glowered at the carpeted floor.  
  
“I can understand that my people are not so well thought of, after…” Makar trailed off and seemed unwilling to speak, but then squared his shoulders and looked at the counsellor, “But that doesn’t excuse insubordination. Whatever judgment they may have of my people, I am still second-in-command aboard this vessel.”  
  
“Have you considered that perhaps the crew needs some time to work past their impression of Cardassians?”  
  
Makar pursed his lips.  
  
“I honestly don’t have much hope their impression _will_ change, counsellor.”  
  
The counsellor smiled, “I do.”  
  
He could only give the counsellor a skeptical look as he drank the last of the glass. Attiel stood up.  
  
“Counsellor? You barely touched your drink.”  
  
“You need it more than I do,” The counsellor chuckled as he walked over to the doorway, “we should talk again soon, Gul Makar.”  
  
“What about the bottle?”  
  
“Keep it. Perhaps you can invite the captain to share it with you, and you can reacquaint yourselves.”  
  
At that the counsellor left. Makar looked at the bottle and then replaced it’s cork. He took the other glass— still quite full— and sipped from it, looking contemplatively around at his quarters.


	10. The Journey Ahead (Part 10/10)

Commander Nix, aboard the turbolift, was staring intently Doctor Stollan, who stood next to her with a med kit strapped across his chest. He was a fair amount taller than her, despite her being of average height, and seemed to be trying unsuccessfully to pretend not to notice the science chief's severe gaze.

"I've never seen you before, who are you?"

Nix's blunt question was met with a raised eyebrow from the doctor.

"I am chief medical officer Stollan," they responded, and after a moment extended their hand towards Nix. Nix raised an eyebrow at their response and slowly took their hand to shake it.

"I thought Doctor Vela was chief medical officer."

"She was called away to a family emergency back on earth."

"Oh." Nix seemed to contemplate this, then dismissively added, "never liked her anyway."

Stollan gave Nix a strange look and opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by the turbolift opening. Ajano entered the lift. She looked irritated as her back met the wall with a thud. Stollan noticed the engineers hands were covered with various scrapes and minor looking burn marks. She made to order the turbolift, but seeing it was already headed towards her destination— the transporter room— looked at her two companions in the lift and nodded briefly in greeting at them.

"What's eating you Ajano?" Nix questioned, grimacing at the chief engineer's ruffled appearance.

"A power coupling blew out on the bridge," Ajano grumbled as the doctor came over to her and took one of her hands, rummaging around the med kit across his chest with the other. She didn't seem to notice this as she spoke, "a couple of juniors in operations got into an argument over whether or not it was misaligned and design specs and yadda yadda yadda and the thing blew out while I was trying to fix their mess."

As she was speaking the doctor—dermal regenerator in hand—treated the burns and scrapes.

"Thank you doctor I… I haven't seen you before."

"Doctor Stollan. chief medical officer." He took her healed hand and shook it briefly. Ajano frowned.

"I thought Doctor Vela was—"

"Family emergency." Nix interrupted. Ajano raised her eyebrows and then looked back up to Stollan with a warm smile.

"Well it's good to have you aboard doctor, I'm Ena Ajano, chief of engineering. Once we get things running properly I'm sure you'll see it's not always such a disaster around here— ah, Captain."

The turbolift opened it's doors. Captain T'kel and Commander Howell stepped in promptly.  
He gave them a puzzled look as the doors closed and no one left the lift.

"Bridge, please."

It was quite was starting to become somewhat crowded now. This turbolift was not meant to hold large groups of people and out of the five officers, three struggled to face the captain, meeting shoulders as they did.

"Captain T'kel I assume? I am Stollan, Doctor Vela's replacement—"

"Sir the crewmen in the dock are refusing to release my equipment," Nix interrupted.

"Apologies Commander, I have a matter of some urgency—" Stollan attempted, his voice even and polite, to make Nix aware he had spoken to the Captain first.

"Look I've seen the datapads there's nothing urgent about a couple of inactive dermal regenerators. I need my lab equipment set up by the end of the day so I can start making use of my field samples as soon as possible."

T'kel looked from Nix to Stollan wordlessly as they argued between themselves. Commander Howell, at a loss, only looked at the turbolift's monitor to watch their progress through the ship.

Meanwhile, Ajano patiently waited for T'kel to look over to her, and when he did, gave him a courteous smile.

"Captain there's been a complication on the bridge, I could fix it myself but if you could approve a repair crew from DS9 operations over here within the next hour I think we'd save a lot of time."

As T'kel opened his mouth to respond to the chief engineer he was interrupted.

" _My equipment,_ Captain." Nix fumed.

"It's not _just_ the dermal regenerators, Captain, one of the—"

"I've been waiting all day and I—"

The two seemed to forget the captain was there, instead bickering with each other as the turbolift opened to the bridge. T'kel edged around them as best he could and strode into the bridge. A group of engineers appeared to have generated a shield around a section of open panelling, the air bubble inside of it filling with thick swirling smoke.

The officers, noting the captain's arrival stood at attention. He bade them a dismissive hand and they returned to their work. Gul Makar, who also appeared to working at an individual station gave him a side glance, to which the captain responded with a smile of a greeting as he went into his ready room. The senior officers following after him seemed more interested in whose issue was more important rather than the captain's attention.

He was only gone for a few moments before he returned, repinning his comm badge onto his uniform as he did.

"Gul Makar, Doctor Stollan, I believe some introductions are in order." T'kel's voice penetrated above the noise, which almost immediately lowered to a hum as bridge officers bade their superiors their curious attention.

Makar hesitated for a moment before straightening up and walking over to the captain— who stood with his fingers interlinked in front of him self— and the faced the senior officers.

"Please come along, let's not distract the crew." T'kel smiled as he led them to the observation lounge. Once inside each officer sat down, with T'kel at the head of the table.

"As you know I am Captain Rhydian T'kel. You've met Commander Howell and Lieutenant Commander Ajano, these are chief medical officer Doctor Stollan and chief science officer Leda Nix."

"We've spoken." said Makar, curtly eyeing Nix. Nix— leaned back in her seat with an impatient expression— raised an eyebrow, apparently not recognizing him.

"Doctor Stollan is here to replace Doctor Vela," T'kel told the group pointedly, gesturing an open hand toward the doctor. Stollan, who had been eyeing the captain with some measure of disconcertment, snapped back to attention and looked back at the officers around the table.

"I specifically requested you doctor, I've found the time to read some of your journals on adaptive molecular genetics and I find myself quite astounded."

"You flatter me, captain, when I received your transmission last week I was honoured at the opportunity." Stollan responded quite graciously and bowed his head.

"I'm confident we're safe in the hands of you and your staff, doctor. You're having problems down in the med bay?"

"It appears there are some clerical errors in the system and some of the equipment appears to be non-functioning…"

"Ajano, can you get a group of your men down to sick bay?"

Ajano sat up and looked from the captain to the doctor weighing her thoughts.  
"The entire engineering staff are on active duties at the moment, I don't even have enough officers free to help me repair that coupling on the bridge…"

"Send down crewmen doing low-priority system calibrations," Makar interjected.

"And I'll see about contacting DS9 for additional support from their operations division for that blown coupling on the bridge." T'kel nodded.

"My equipment, Captain." Came the sour voice of the science chief.

"Is there any reason your equipment would be held on to?"

"The equipment the Commander is referring to is being retained because it was not registered on the requisitions manifesto." Makar announced to the Captain.

"There wasn't any time to put in a requisitions request— it would have taken days to process and we'd be gone by then." Nix seemed indignant.

"It is standard procedure, Commander." Makar responded curtly.

"Gul Makar is right Commander. We need to document everything we bring aboard. I'll talk to the requisitions officer and see what we can do about speeding up the process."

Nix, quite obviously dissatisfied, sighed, but gave an acquiescing nod. Then she started up again, her tone rather non-committal this time.

"Oh and… some of my officers are finding it difficult to move around the equipment themselves. I'd rather they do it but at the rate they're going at I'll be lucky to have even _that_ equipment today."

"Use a transporter." Makar stated, his voice again dry.

T'kel shook his head, "No, by the looks of the transporter rooms when we boarded the ship they'll be transporting personnel around and onboard for at least the next few hours. Commander Howell."

"Captain."

"Get a detachment of your team to go down to the port and help move Commander Nix's equipment."

"Understood sir."

The captain looked around at each of his senior officers.

"Is there anything else I need to know about? Alright. Dismissed. Let's try have the ship ready to leave within the next four hours."

They stood and gave the captain a short nod before filing out of the observation lounge.

"Gul Makar."

Makar stopped and turned to face the Captain slowly, clasping his hands behind him as he did.

"Captain T'kel."

"I noticed there seems to have been a dramatic decrease in panicked ensigns running about, I'm assuming that's your doing." T'kel gave the cardassian a warm smile.

"Most of them were being complete nuisances running about. I assigned them minor duties and created a communal update channel for each division, which senior officers can now access via comm link or the computer interface."

"Excellent," responded the captain, quite pleased.

Gul Makar didn't seem satisfied at T'kels gratitude and made to leave.

"It is adequate. If you have no more need of me, I have some other system adjustments to make—"

"Wait, Gul Makar."

Makar—very quietly inhaling deeply with some impatience— faced the Captain again.

"I just want to say I'm glad to see our cultures banding together in the spirit of exploration. I look forward to working with you during our time together and I'm certain given enough time the crew will come to see the best Cardassia has to offer through you."

There was a beat of silence while Makar weighed the Captain.

"You… certainly have a way with words."  
"So I'm told." T'kel gave him a sheepish grin and walked over to him. He held out his hand to Makar. Frowning uncertainly as he removed a hand from behind himself, Makar cautiously took it and was a little taken aback when the captain gave it a vigorous shake.

"I also wanted to apologize, I must have given you a bad impression back on the station."

"It… certainly was not a good impression, no." Makar pulled his hand quickly back behind himself.

"I imagine this must all be very different from a Cardassian operation."

"Quite so."

"A bit of a culture shock if you will."

"More than a bit, captain." Makar said dryly.

"Really? I'd be interested in discussing the subject further sometime, when things calm down. Perhaps over a drink?"

Makar thought back to Attiel's suggestion of reacquainting himself with the captain.

"...Perhaps." Makar said briefly. T'kel gave him a wide smile and a forceful pat on the shoulder as he began to leave the observational area.

"Let's get underway then, shall we Gul Makar?"

Makar turned to follow.

"...Yes, Captain T'kel."

Some hours later the USS Beyond, approved for departure, had cleared DS9 and was well on it's way to the wormhole that would take them more than halfway across the galaxy and into the Gamma quadrant

Captain T'kel had taken his place upon the Captain's chair of the bridge, which was now a hub of lowly buzzing activity. Beside him stood Makar, looking over the crew's work with a stony expression. T'kel watched him for a few moments, glancing between him and the First Officer's seat.

"You may have a seat, Gul Makar." T'kel told him jokingly.

"I prefer to stand, Captain."

T'kel threw up his hands in a non-committal gesture.

"Time to wormhole approximately four minutes, 30 seconds Captain." Called a ensign from one of the forward interfaces.

"Excellent. Call all senior officers to the bridge, ensign."

As they ensign carried out the order T'kel leaned forward in his seat, eyes glimmering with excitement.

"Have you ever been to the Gamma quadrant Gul Makar?" he asked, voice almost a whisper.

"I have, on several occasions." Makar responded, eyes now focused resolutely on the viewing screen.

"I envy you. I was stationed near Betazed during the war. I've seen the vids but I've never actually travelled the inside of the wormhole myself. I've been told it's an amazing experience."

"It is… quite impressive." Makar offered, recalling the few times he himself had carried out scouting missions that required passage through.

The turbolifts doors opened and officers filed through Among them, Nix sauntered in with a brooding expression and stood on the overhead level.

The Captain, apparently unable to hold in his excitement, stood up and walked a few paces forward closer to the view screen.

"Isn't it exhilarating? We're about to jump a half a galaxy away."

Gul Makar kept his stony gaze steadily ahead, and said nothing. He certainly did not feel exhilarated. He felt utterly horrified at the idea of being so far from Cardassia, from his friends, from his people. Today he would be leaving his homeland for the foreseeable future, and from what he had gathered about the Federation's famed long-term, deep space missions is that more often than not the ship didn't make it back in one piece, if it made it back at all.

"With the state of this ship's crew we'll probably be dead within the first few months." The science chief noted sullenly.

T'kel laughed loudly, "Oh please, chief, if you really had no hope you wouldn't need so much equipment. Out of all of us you're probably the most thrilled to be here."

Nix allowed a small smile to curve up her lip as she leaned onto the bridge's banister.

"10 seconds and closing Captain."  
T'kel swerved around and fell back into the Captain's chair. He leaned back and placed his hands along the arms.

"Half-impulse ahead, ensign, on my order."

Before them appeared what looked like a distortion, then a fissure which loomed beyond them and seemed to burn. In less than a fraction of a second, the wormholes arms, great bodies of light and colour crashing and swirling like the great waves of an ocean opened right before their eyes. For more than a few moments the entire bridge was stunned into silence. T'kel— his eyes reflecting the light of the awesome phenomenon before him— leaned forward in his seat.

Then, smiling, said in a quiet but clear voice ,"Engage."

**Author's Note:**

> This series is intended to be open-ended and episodic, meaning that each arc will work very much like the TV series, where in one episode encompasses its own plot separate to the rest. There will however be continuity. Characters will remember things that have happened in previous arcs. Star Trek: The Journey Ahead will be updated in increments.


End file.
